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From the depth of the pacific |
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To the height of everest |
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And still the world is smoother |
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Than a shiny ball-bearing |
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So i take a few steps back |
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And put on a wider lens |
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And it changes your skin, |
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Your sex, and what your wearing |
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Distance shows your silloutte |
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To be a lot like mine |
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Like a sphere is a sphere |
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And all of us here |
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Have been here all the time |
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You brought me to church, |
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Cinder blocks, flourescent light |
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You brought me to church |
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At 7o'clock on a sunday night |
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And the band was rocking |
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And the floors were scrubbed clean |
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And everybody had a tambourine |
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So i took a deep breath and became |
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The white girl with the hair |
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And you sat right beside me |
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While everybody stared |
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And through the open window |
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I think the singing went outside |
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And floated up to tell |
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All the stars not to hide |
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Cuz by the time church let out |
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The sky was much clearer |
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And the moon was so beautiful, |
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That the ocean held up a mirror |
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As we walked home we spoke slowly |
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We spoke slow, |
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And we spoke lowly |
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Like it was taking more time |
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Than usual to choose |
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The words to go |
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With your squeaky sandle shoes |
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Like time is not a thing |
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That's ours to lose |
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From the height of the pacific |
|
To the depths of everest |
